


Picking Up the Pieces

by Spacecadet72



Series: When the Dance is Over [3]
Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 08:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3439790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spacecadet72/pseuds/Spacecadet72
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had known it was coming long before his father did. </p>
<p>(<em>Henry</em> now. It had been ‘Henry’ and not ‘Pops’ or ‘Dad’ for a while, but sometimes it was easy to forget. Especially now that everything was finally falling apart.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picking Up the Pieces

He had known it was coming long before his father did. 

( _Henry_ now. It had been ‘Henry’ and not ‘Pops’ or ‘Dad’ for a while, but sometimes it was easy to forget. Especially now that everything was finally falling apart.)

Abe had seen it, even if he didn’t live at home anymore, had seen how unhappy his mother was, how unwilling his father was to let her go.

Even without all the little signs pointing to the end, she had alluded to her plan months ago, before it was anything concrete. 

He had been over at their house for dinner and as had become the norm, he had tried not to dwell on how it felt to visit to see his mom and his “brother”. How it felt to pretend that his dad wasn’t in the picture anymore. 

_“It can’t last.” she said quietly, as he helped her in the kitchen. He stopped chopping peppers and looked over at her. She was in front of the stove, her back to him as she stirred the ground beef. He knew what she meant. It was the one thing she and Henry always seemed to fight about now._

_Maybe ‘fight’ wasn’t the right word. Abigail brought up her concerns and Henry pushed past them with smooth words and a worldview that didn’t allow for that kind of heartbreak. In Henry’s mind, the age gap had no real consequences, wasn’t causing any harm. He didn’t see the way people looked at them, didn’t see the way Abigail’s face would fall when she saw the glances, heard the whispers._

_“Are you going to leave?” Abe asked slowly, trying to push past the dread rising in his chest._

_“Not yet, but soon.” she sighed. “I love your father, but I can’t live like this anymore. And I can’t watch him live like this either.”_

\-----

She visited him before she left. 

“Look after him.” she said, making him promise. “He’ll need you now.”

“Will he be okay?” Abe asked, and he felt ten years old again. He wasn’t ready for this, for himself or for Henry. 

“With time. But it’s better that I leave now, than he spend the next 20 years watching me wither away.”

Abe nodded, his eyes filling with tears as he pulled her into a hug.

“I love you.” she said, her voice wavering. “If you ever need me, you can find me here.” she pressed a piece of paper, folded and small, into his hand. “Don’t let your father see this. He can’t know where I’m going.”

Abe nodded and shoved the paper into his pocket. He wasn’t sure that he would read it. He wasn’t sure that he could keep that kind of information from Henry. Not when he would have to stand and watch him crumble and know that he could give him what he wanted with a handful of words. It would be what Henry wanted, but it wasn’t what he needed, and as much as it all hurt, he knew his mother was right.

\-----

He unlocked the door to his parents’--no, father's house. "Henry? Are you home?" he called into the darkness. There was no answer, but Henry's bike was locked up outside so he kicked off his shoes and walked in. 

His foot bumped into an empty bottle of booze, and it made a loud clunk as it hit the wooden leg of the sofa. He turned on the light of the living room, and even going in with certain expectations, it still hurt to see Henry passed out on the couch, one leg hanging off and the other looking like it would soon follow. His clothes were rumpled, clearly slept in, and possibly more than just last night. Henry’s face was rough with stubble and Abe couldn’t remember the last time he saw his father anything but clean shaven. 

Abe nudged several more bottles aside with his foot as he moved closer to the couch. He leaned down and shook Henry’s shoulder. 

Henry groaned, and flung an arm over his eyes. 

“Time to get up.” Abe said with another shake of his shoulder, before cleaning up the garbage scattered around the living room. He poured out what was left in the bottles and threw them all away in the garbage can in the kitchen. 

When he returned to the living room, Henry was awake and upright, but he had a glass of what looked like his good cognac in his hand. 

“Maybe I should take that.” Abe said, gesturing to the glass. “It looks like you’re working your way towards alcohol poisoning.”

“It doesn’t matter.” he said, his tone lifeless. “I can drink myself to death, and it won’t matter. Nothing matters.” 

“Well, I don’t want to have to haul your drunk, naked ass home when that happens, so maybe we should lay off the booze.” Abe said as he pulled the half empty glass out of Henry’s hand. Henry didn’t put up much resistance. 

“She’s gone. She just left. I don’t know where she went. How could she just leave?” Henry said, mostly to himself, and Abe knew he wasn’t looking for an answer. 

Abe didn’t say anything, just thought about the square of paper in his pocket, thought about how they both knew exactly why she left, but she had been the only one willing to talk about it, and now that she’s gone, he didn’t have the words. 

Henry rubbed his hand across his eyes, and then looked up at Abe, his expression almost ashamed, like he had forgotten that Abe was there, like he had shown too much. 

He forced a smile, the false upturn of his mouth looking wrong against the complete and utter sorrow of his face. “I’m fine, really. You should get back home. Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

“I already called in with a family emergency, so I’m good for the next few days.” 

“You shouldn’t have done that. There’s no reason for you to be here.” his tone was harsh, and even though Abe knew it was the grief and the alcohol talking he took a step back. 

Henry pinched the bridge of his nose. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have snapped, but you really should go.”

Abe shook his head. “Sorry, Pops. I’m staying.”

He walked back into the kitchen with Henry’s glass, and poured it into the sink.

He took out the paper with Abigail’s address and stared at it for a moment. He glanced over to the garbage can, and he almost walked over and threw it in. He hesitated, but then Henry groaned in the living room, and Abe didn’t want to know how bad his headache was. 

He couldn't turn his back on either of them. He tucked the piece of paper with her address back into his pocket, and went to go make the hangover remedy he hadn't used since his first divorce.


End file.
